Divine Delineation
by RingxDelight
Summary: He was possibly one of the greatest stars to have ever graced the squared circle. An adept in-ring performer, and a former champion. But, he felt he needed more. He wanted to be classified as one of the best.
1. Prologue

**Everything is owned by the WWE.**

**This is my first creation. And I'm making things up as I go.**

**So, Reviews would be lovely. **

**^_^**

**

* * *

  
**

**Prologue:**

**Recap 1: ****A Look Back.**

"_That's right, John. Straight to the top," Melina assured with a soporific smile, before snuggling her head into his well-toned chest. With apathy taking it's toll, The California native soon found her self slipping further and further into what was promised to be a delightful slumber. Morrison, after closing his arms tightly around the woman in whom he was sharing his bed, pressed his lips gently against the tip of her head. Then followed. The two, drenched in the product of their passion, promptly drifted into the placid confines of their dreams._

_During that night; That marvelous night, a thousand promises were made. The two love birds known simply as the "A-list" couple both assured one another that they'd always be together. They promised that they'd rise to the top. They __guaranteed__ absolute domination over the company known as World Wrestling Entertainment. Together, alongside their Friend and Partner Michael "The Miz" Mizanin, the two would surely do that. After all three found their selves on the flagship show of "Monday Night RAW", accomplishments came with ease. The infamous tag team of The Miz and John Morrison reformed, and with the assistance of the "Paparazzi Princess", climbed through the ranks of the tag-team division. The duo captured the unified Tag Team Titles and their female counterpart went on to obtain the divas championship. __Everything__ seemed to have been perfect. Melina was considered to be the most dominant Diva on RAW, despite the fact that she spent the least amount of time on the show. She had yet to lose a match since returning to the red team and was the current title holder. With a nearly flawless record, losing the divas title seemed impossible. The thought of it was absolutely absurd. The Miz Had developed finely as well. With two his closest friends by his side, he finally managed to pick up a victory over a man whom many considered to be the face of the entire company. John Cena. After knocking John off of his high horse, the Miz had risen to a higher state of superstardom. And with him, he brought along those two whom assisted him in doing so. John Morrison, despite his incredible in-ring skill, wasn't as successful as his two allies. In the eyes of most, he seemed to have been riding the coat tail of The Miz and Melina. Yeah, he was FAR more impressive in the ring than both could ever dream, but there was just something he was missing. When it came to the unit, as a whole, he could not be considered the star. That right belonged to the Miz. John couldn't outshine either of them on his best day. The Miz was incredible on the Mic. Melina was decent enough to get by. But, John, On the other hand, couldn't really work it. Or maybe it was just the fact that he barely ever got a chance to do so. Whenever it was time for the team to express themselves, The Miz and Melina were usually the ones speaking. The Miz ALWAYS had something to say, and in a sense, expressed his feelings as well as his Partner's. Melina only spoke to address the females in the back. Having such a good record prompted her to obtain a form of arrogance comparable to that of the Miz. Whenever John spoke, he usually did so in the form of agreeing with what one of his colleagues had said prior. But, this didn't bother him too much. After all, why would it? In his mind, he was pretty much golden. He had the woman of his dreams in Melina and an amazing tag-team partner in the Miz. He was one half of the current unified tag-team champs. He was a former ECW champion, and a Former IC champion. He was at the pinnacle of his Career. But on some occasions, he wondered on how things would be different if he was the star of the team. If he actually DID outshine those whom he allied with. Tonight presented him with an opportunity to find out. Tonight was the Royal Rumble. An event held once a year which offered 30 superstars a chance to win and go on to main-event the biggest wrestling spectacle known to man: Wrestlemania. If John could outlast the other thirty competitors, then he'd have a guaranteed shot at a title of his choosing. The thought of maineventing Wrestlemania alone was enough to hype him up. But, if he was able to win then he'd be able to bring another fine piece of gold into his group. His intentions were more for his team rather than himself. For his team's sake, he hoped that he was able to pick up a victory tonight._

* * *

Recap 2: The Divas Title Match.

"_One…Two…," The WWE universe roared in Unison as the Ref's hand slammed against the mat. Right before it could be brought down for the third and final time, Melina managed to shift her weight to her side and bring her right shoulder up from the mat. At this point in the match, the crowd was going nuts. They were all screaming at the top of their lungs, cheering for whom they wanted to come out on top._

"_Three! No, No, No. Melina just barely gets her shoulder up from the Mat," Stated Michael Cole, whom was far more excited than his tone allowed to show._

_The Title match had been going on for little over fifteen minutes, and throughout that time-span, the crowd witnessed nonstop, back-and-forth action. The two competitors were Exhausted. Melina was hoping to somehow come out on top, and her opponent, Gail, was hoping that her next move would finally keep Melina down for the entire Three count. Slowly, both Superstars made it to their feet. Gail was just Arms-length away from The champion, so without a moment's hesitation she took a foot forward and attempted to Grab a hold of her opponent…but her actions came to a halt when she felt a sharp, stinging pain in her lower stomach. Her hands, which were first directed toward Melina, made a shift in position and wrapped around her own Stomach. With a small grunt, Gail collapsed to one knee. The small amount of air that found refuge within her petite body had been driven completely out. Melina, wanting to capitalize on the open opportunity tried her best to go on the offensive, but her body had reached it's limit. She, like her adversary, had fallen to one knee as well. This was the time of truth. Whomever had managed to get to their feet and strike, would more than likely be leaving with the Divas title._

_Melina struggled to keep her eyes open. Throughout the difficult process, she pondered on where her back up was. Usually before things got too hectic in her matches, Michael or John would come down to her rescue. They'd bless her with an opportunity to feed off of, which usually handed her the victory. That's how she managed to stay afloat all this time. But now…It seemed as if Her luck was about to run dry._

_Just when Gail rose to her feet, the entire atmosphere of the arena altered. The acclamations of appreciation that the two performers were receiving had turned into decries of disapproval. Gail didn't notice this at first, not until she caught glimpse of her opponents facial expression. Melina was using every ounce of strength to give the most cocksure beam Gail had ever witnessed. Slightly confused on the matter at hand, Gail turned her back to her opponent so that she could face the entrance Ramp. Approaching to ring-side was none other than Melina's Flame: John Morrison._

"_Oh not Again," Sighed Michael Cole._

"_What? I'm sure he just wanted a better look of the Action," said the King._

"_Oh, come on King! You and I both know that whenever he comes out here, The divas Champion resorts to her underhanded tactics!"_

"…_It's all fair game if the Ref doesn't catch you," Explained Jerry, whom was rather happy to see John make it to ringside._

_Gail rolled her eyes at the sight. She had been doing so well tonight and had refused to let her concentration be broken by s__omeone such as him. She quickly turned back around, her eyes only fast enough to catch Melina sliding out of the ring through the set of ropes directly in front of the announce team._

"_Dammit," Gail soughed with annoyance as she sluggishly clambered toward the set of Ropes Melina had retreated through a few seconds prior. She'd be damned if she allowed Melina any time to recuperate. Not when she was this close to winning a title that everyone believed she deserved. As she slowly made her way to the ropes, John, on the opposite side, had ascended to the Apron, much to the Crowd, and the Ref's dismay._

"_Come on get down, John," Yelled the ref as he attempted to block John's entrance through the middle rope. The ref could have disqualified Melina, after all he knew too well that the "Monday Night Delight" was out to help her. But, he also did NOT want to see this match end by a DQ._

"_Mmm. Melina has never looked so good," The King said as his eyes trailed up and down the Latina's body, whom was situated just a few feet before him. She was on her knees, covered in sweat. The lights in the arena, mixed with her slightly drenched body, gave the illusion of her skin sparkling. She glowed like a true champion would, in the eyes of the commentator._

"_She may look good now, but in a few seconds she sure won't," Said The King's partner, whom was obviously referring to Gail, whom was seconds away from reaching Her enemy._

_Melina, from her kneeled position__, looked up just in time to catch Gail's head poking through the second rope. She also caught Gail's hand coming down toward her, but couldn't do anything Fast enough to Prevent La Felina from wrapping her fingers around her Hair. Melina, in a panic, let lose a shrilling cry. The A-list Diva closed her right hand around Gail's wrist in an attempt to stop her from pulling her up to the apron by her marvelous roots. When Gail pulled up, Melina pulled her Wrist down, which kept the Latina leveled. It increased the pain of her hair being pulled, but it was definitely worth it for what she was about to do. Melina reached her left hand under the ring, scavenging for anything she could wrap her pretty little fingers around. Once her hand went in as deep as it could, Melina's fingers felt out an item that could have assisted her. She grabbed on to it and pulled it from under the ring. She hadn't a single clue on what it was, but when Gail gave one final tug, and actually lifted Melina from her knees into the air, she figured that it was better than nothing. She quickly looked up and swung the item in her attackers direction. Gail, whom didn't see it coming, Kept her head in between the second rope. The item slammed against Gail's pretty face, lighting the area up with an odd clap._

"_DID YOU SEE THAT," Yelled Michael Cole as Gail's grip around Melina's Hair loosened._

"_No I did not," Lied the King. "Looks as if Melina has knocked Gail out with that vicious Left of hers."_

_Melina's body fell back down on to the protective mat as Gail's head hung between the second rope. The shot was so quick and sudden, that it immediately knocked Gail into dream land. Her body had shut down upon impact, leaving her in that precarious position. Melina looked at the item in her hand. It was nothing more than a steel trash can lid. Usually, something like that wouldn't deal too much Damage. But her and Gail were absolutely out of it. She figured from the result of her underhanded tactic, that the slightest maneuver would have knocked either one of them out. She quickly slid the trash can lid back under the ring, Rose to her feet and rolled herself back into the squared circle._

_The Referee had just about had it With John. He was threatening to disqualify his girlfriend, and had even began to count. Morrison was pushing his luck while up there, but when he looked past the Ref's shoulder to observe his woman Pulling Gail from the ring ropes, to the canvas, he immediately leapt down._

"_Oh NOW he wants to get down?!"_

"_Oh hush Michael. I'm sure it's because of his feet growing tired."_

_Melina Had Gail just where she wanted her. She went fro the pin, hooking both Of her legs in the process. The ref turned around mere seconds later, then slid into position to administer the count._

"_One…! Two…! ..Three!" counted the ref, alongside the crowd, as he slammed his hand against the mat in unison with his shouted numbers. He rose to a knee and pointed to the time keeper, whom immediately rung the bell. The crowd erupted in a flurry of boos milliseconds after. There were some in there whom were actually cheering, those who were die-hard fans of John and Melina. But more than half were showing their disapproval. Melina released her defeated opponent's legs, and rolled out of the ring toward the announce table as her theme of "Paparazzi" began to rival the booing of the fans._

"_And Melina pulls off an AH-MAZING victory over Gail Kim," shouted the King as Melina took hold of her title. "What a well deserved accomplishment!"_

"_Oh, please," was the only Thing Michael Cole cared to say as he eyed Melina take off with her belt towards her Man._

_She had ran at somewhat of a slow pace, but made it to him rather quickly. She dropped her title and jumped into his open arms. He closed them tightly around her waist, and spun her around. Upon making a quick 360, John looked up at the woman whom he held high. She looked down at him with a faint smile. Her fatigue level was obvious in his eyes. Using the little strength that she had, she drew her lips together and gently pressed them against those of the Man whom had assisted her in winning._

"…_What took you so long…," She whispered as he placed her back down on the ground._

"_I actually thought that you had a chance of winning this one on your own," he replied softly. "I'm sorry it took me so long."_

_Melina knelt down and picked her title back up, and afterwards, walked backstage, hand-in-hand with her man. The very man whom hoped to have win the Royal Rumble match, which was just minutes from beginning._

_

* * *

  
_

**The first chapter will coming up next.**


	2. The Royal Rumble

**As I said before, I'm just making things up as I go.**

**Please...leave reviews. Whether they be good or bad.**

**I'd really appreciate it, and it'd help drive my will to continue on.**

* * *

**The Royal Rumble:**

**Michael, Wherefore Art Thou? **

A frustrated sigh, which found it's way out through the half-parted lips of the divas champion, soon furnished through the silence that had assembled within her locker room. With an acerbated expression etched on her face, Melina slammed her cell phone on the desk that resided an arms-length away from the luxury couch that she was sitting on. Her actions didn't go unnoticed , of course. After all, how could they? The slam of the phone was just as loud as the sigh she had delivered a few seconds earlier.

John, whom had just finished lacing up his left boot, rose to full height and turned his attention over to Alicia, who was the secondary guest within Melina's leeway. The Floridian, who was postured right next to Melina on her sheer black couch, turned to the Latina.

"What's the matter," questioned Alicia, who was expecting to hear something that had a sense of seriousness behind it. It was totally unlike her best friend to get upset over something involving her cell phone. She knew that Melina couldn't have been expecting a call, for whenever she was, it was a call from John. Maybe it was an expected text message. But, if it was, then why was she getting so worked up over it?

"It's Michael," confessed Melina, which prompted her beau to immediately stop and turn his full attention toward her. "He hasn't returned any of my text messages or any of my phone calls. I haven't seen him at all today."

"That all," asked Alicia, shortly after letting lose a dramatic sigh of relief. "Don't worry about him. He's probably off with Maryse. You know, like always," she voiced, somewhat in a soothing tone.

"Yeah. What she said," John added in before turning his back to the two to continue with his preparation. For a second there, he could have sworn that his lover was speaking of a different Michael.

"…But, it's so uncommon for him to not text anything back. Usually, he would at least reply with a smiley. Something to tell me that he had read what I sent."

"Maybe he's busy getting ready," John proposed over his shoulder before commencing to lace up his right boot.

"Or Maybe he's _with_ Maryse," Alicia voiced shortly before her lips curled into a smile. With added emphasis on the word with, The couple got exactly what she was getting at. John had even chuckled. Now that he had thought back on it, The Miz was always out getting laid. Whether he got his fix from Maryse or someone else. "You know how he is, Mel"

"But him and Maryse aren't even an item. Thank god," Melina said in reply. It was no secret that she and Maryse absolutely hated each other. Alicia wasn't too fond of the blond herself, but her and the Canadian were okay enough to hold a conversation. The only person in the room whom was actually friend's with Maryse, was John. He didn't find anything wrong with her. She was a nice girl, albeit a little overweening. But, that was one of few things that he had in common with her.

"I don't really see what the fuss is about. She's a cool person," John proclaimed, knowing that it would draw heat from his inamorata and his pal Alicia.

Melina scoffed shortly after rolling her eyes. "Whatever. Can we change the subject before I heave?" Melina questioned upon scooting back in her seat. "I swear…just the thought of her makes me want to blow chunks," she said under her breath as Alicia playfully stuck her index finger into her own mouth, creating a scene to go along with what her friend had just said. Right after doing so, Alicia cued the audio of a fabricated gag, which caused Melina to burst into a small fit of laughter.

"I don't really understand what he sees in her. I never found her to be pretty," said Alicia after removing her finger from her mouth. "But whatever makes him happy, I guess."

"Blech! I don't think _anyone_ has found her to be pretty," Melina said as she reached her arm out toward the very desk her cell phone laid upon. This time, instead of grabbing a hold of her phone, she took a hold of the remote that laid next to it. She used it to turn on the TV, which was positioned a few feet in front of her and Alicia. The screen had remained blank for a few seconds, but upon finally showing an image, it revealed that the Royal Rumble match had been progressing quite smoothly.

"So. What number did Johnny draw," Alicia asked, fixating her eyes upon the screen of the television.

"Lucky number twelve," replied Melina with a sigh. She had high hopes of John walking out the rumble as the winner, but what were the odds with a number such as that? She had faith in him and all, but there were plenty of high caliber superstars in that match. The likes of Triple H, Shawn Michaels, and Batista. She couldn't fathom how hard it would be to get rid of those three, let alone twenty-seven others.

"Hm. My favorite number," Alicia said as she turned her focus from the TV, over to John. "When do you report to the gorilla, Morri?"

"I have until Entrant Number eleven runs out," He answered as he turned around to face the two.

"Well…entrant number ten just entered," said Melina. "I think you should get going."

"Alrighty," John said as he approached both women, whom rose from their seated position. Alicia was the first to give John a "Good Luck" and a hug. Melina, on the other hand, was a little reluctant. She was not ready to see her beloved go out there and possibly get thrown over the top rope. Not when the match meant so much to him.

So, there they stood. Melina looking up into the green orbs that stared back down into her very own. She wanted to leave with him. She wanted to be there by his side, like he was for her. She wanted to assist him in realizing his dream. His dream of maineventing Wrestlemania. But, she could not. He had to go at it alone. Unfortunately.

"Don't disappoint me," Melina finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice somewhat soft, displaying a small amount of apprehension. She was trying to hide the fact that she was actually frightened, with what she said.

"I won't," John assured in a whisper. He placed his hand lightly upon his lover's cheek, which immediately began to heat up with a small blush.

"This is your night…"

"No, Doll. This is _our _night," he corrected, in a rather low tone. After brushing his thumb gently upon her cheek, John leaned in toward her face to plant a soft, yet loving kiss upon her pulchritudinous lips. Melina's heart began to race as soon as his mouth came in contact with hers, and the blood started rushing into her cheeks, illuminating her elegant face with a deep flush. At that very moment, Melina could not have cared less if he went out there or not, so long as it meant their lips stayed intermingled. But, her wishes went unheard. He pulled back, which caused Melina to mentally curse the royal rumble. "I'll see you two after the match," he promised. "I love you, Melina," he said softly.

It took a few seconds for Melina to regain her self. He had took her breath away with that one, and it left her unable to respond as quickly as she usually would have. But, she managed to say something as he made his exit. "I love you too, John!" She yelled before she heard the door shut. "…So much…," she said under her breath as she looked at the closed door. "…Good luck…"

* * *

**And The Winner Is…**

"_John…you are NOTHING without me. You'll NEVER be a top dog…not while you're competing in MY yard!"_

Those words echoed throughout the space of John Morrison's head. It was probably the only thing keeping him in the competition. At the current moment, He couldn't recall where he was, let alone what superstar had said those words to him. But, he was determined to prove who ever it was wrong. His eyes started to flutter open while his hearing began to pick back up. He immediately heard the screaming crowd, the sound of bodies falling onto the mat, and the shouting of one superstar in particular. A superstar screaming all sorts of obscenities.

"I'm gonna win. I'm going to Wrestlemania," the man shouted.

With his blurred vision, Morrison scoped out the area. Due to the fact that he had to look up just to see the superstars surrounding him, he concluded that he was on the mat. He looked to his left, and saw the bottom rope. He looked to his right, and saw the exact same thing. So, he was still in it. Out between one of the turnbuckles apparently. Before he could really begin to shake the cobwebs out, he heard the loud thud of a competitor landing a few feet in front of him. The sheer sound acted as an alarm clock, one that awoke The A-lister. His vision: restored. His hearing: rejuvenated. Now everything was crystal clear. Looking ahead, Morrison saw that the superstar that had fallen in front of him was none other than Montel Vontavious Porter. From the sweat that was dripping down his face, John assumed that he had been in there for quite some time. But, the odd thing was that John couldn't really remember how long HE was in the match. He couldn't recall anything that happened at the moment. The last thing he actually remembered was leaving Melina's locker room. Taking in a deep breath, John shifted his oculars to the other superstars whom were in the ring. The only ones present were Jericho and…The Miz.

The very sight of the Miz, whom was currently getting the beat down of a life time by the hands of Chris Jericho, brought everything back to the grounded superstar. He had entered the rumble at number twelve, and had eliminated two superstars within thirty seconds of being in the ring. He had went on, avoiding being eliminated by the likes of Big Show and Triple H. He had no idea on what happened to Show and Hunter, but he did remember just whom came in shortly before they disappeared. It was non other than the Heart Break Kid, Shawn Michaels.

_So there he was. Going toe-to-toe with one of the best in the business in Shawn Michaels. Though the objective of the match was to eliminate your opponent by throwing him over the top rope, The Showstopper had other plans. He and Morrison fought it out, both men getting shot after shot in while the superstars that surrounded them, disposed of themselves. Morrison, lost in the thrill of the battle, lost count on how many superstars had entered the match. He was pretty sure that they were on the 26th__ entrant by the time the crowd finished up with their ten second count down. And that's when he heard it._

"_Aweeeeesooooome!!!!"_

_The start of his partner's music lit up the entire arena. The crowd weren't too pleased to see him, but John was definitely glad that he was finally entering the match. After all, entering in at number twelve had Morrison on the verge of passing out. He was exhausted by this point, but had enough in the tank to keep up with Shawn, whom just refused to throw in the towel. Both men continued to fight it out, until John felt himself being pulled back. The next thing he saw was The Miz charging in, striking an enervated Legend in the gut. John, not wasting a single moment after seeing this, charged in, and the two both got rid of Shawn Michaels by clothes lining him out of the ring, to the outside. But that's when John's Memory broke. He couldn't recall what really happened next. But he did remember Shawn reentering the match, throwing a fit about how he was eliminated. The next thing John knew, A ref, whom was in the ring trying to get Shawn back out, fell to the ground. And then another. And then one more. All struck by the fury of Mr. Wrestlemania. And then he turned to John, whom promised himself that he would be ready for whatever Shawn threw at him. But, something about Shawn through John off. The look in his eyes. The look that revealed everything from Heartbreak, to anger. The cold look in his orbs told a story. A story filled with a vague, reoccurring fiasco. And while John stood there gawking, Shawn leapt a foot back, fell into position, sidestepped, and the next thing John managed to see was the sole of a certain icon's foot coming in his direction. Then everything went black._

Done in by Shawn Michaels. Seeing that it was someone such as him, there was no telling how long John had been out. But, for the oddest reason he was still in the match. MVP, whom was still before John, had slowly started to rise to his feet. That's when John decided to hop back into action. Using the turnbuckle that he was laid out by, John helped himself up to his feet. Montel had his back turned to Morrison, and was just about to hop in the fight that Chris and The Miz were in, but all of his actions were hindered when he felt the tight grasp of John Morrison's hands locking around his attire. Morrison turned in a 180 like rotation, and used the momentum of it to throw MVP over the nearest ring rope. The "Franchise Playa" soon found himself tumbling down onto the protective mat that resided outside of the ring. Now, with Morrison up, and one less man in the competition, it was time for the contest to come to an end.

With only three men left, The royal rumble was mere minutes away from coming to a close, making a new star out of one of the three current men in the process. The Miz had held his ground with Chris Jericho, but was looking worse for wear. The self proclaimed Face of smack down wasn't in good shape either, but he was definitely showing that he had the heart to continue on. In Jericho's mind, the match was as good as his. He was in the ring with two youngsters, two "up-and-comers." Two superstars who had yet to get their mainevent break. Chris had been there. Chris had been champion. Chris had done everything, but win the Royal rumble. Morrison, on the other hand, was under the impression of waiting for a rain drop in the drought. He figured that it was very unlikely for him to leave as the victor. Not when he was this tired. Not when he was in the ring with someone as dangerous as the Miz, and with someone whom was lethal enough to become the first ever undisputed champion in WWE history. Now mind you, Morrison had defeated Jericho in the past. But it took FAR too much to do so. And at the moment, he didn't believe that he had what it took.

The Miz had managed to get away from Chris, and was in somewhat of an inebriated state due to the beating he had received while Morrison was out. Now all three men were separated. All three, were staring each other down. Morrison was at one corner. The Miz at another. Jericho in his own. The Miz had his right arm wrapped around his ribs, breathing heavily as he tried to regain some of the lost oxygen. Morrison stood, his head still rattled by what had taken him out earlier. He couldn't really think straight, but he figured that it wouldn't effect him too much at this point of time. Jericho, with that smug look of confidence etched on his handsome face, was probably in the best condition. He wasn't holding a nagging body part, nor was he showing any signs of abuse. He was golden enough to walk out as victor, if the two allowed him to do so. Now, Jericho knew that he stood in between the current unified tag team champions. So, he figured that they'd work together to take him. But, of course, he believed that he was one step ahead of them. The Miz looked over at his tag partner, whom stared back. Michael motioned his eyes toward Jericho, then took off toward the blond. John had absolutely NO clue on what the eye movement meant, but figured that it had something to do with attacking Jericho, so shortly after his partner went in for the kill, Morrison followed.

As soon as the Miz came in range of Jericho, he was greeted with a stiff kick to his lower abdomen, which stopped him in his tracks. All the little air that he had managed to sum up, was forced out of his large body. Jericho quickly followed the kick up with a sharp blow to Michael's face, causing the loudmouth to stumble back a few feet. Before Jericho could do anything else, Morrison came in for the save. He managed to connect with a small forearm hit, which grazed the side of Jericho's head. Usually, Morrison would be quick to follow up, but fatigue had really caught up to him. John's altered in-ring style blessed Jericho with enough time to push him back a few feet. Jericho, after doing so, turned back to the Miz. He took a step up to him, and grabbed him by the arm. He pulled The Miz in using his right arm, and then slammed his left arm against Michael's chest and neck, immediately dropping the youngest star in the ring. The short arm clothesline put the Miz right where Jericho believed he belonged; under him. "Don't you get it? I'm the best in the world at what I do, Mike! You'll never amount to anything worth my time! You gelatinous tapeworm! You're just like the rest. Like all of these parasitic drones hovering around in attendance. You're---" and that's when he was finally suppressed. Morrison, from Jericho's side, had rushed in and gave all that he had left, into one final clothesline, that caught Jericho by the side of the head, and slightly above the neck. The force or the blow, mixed in with the small amount of gained momentum, was more than enough to knock Jericho over the ring ropes, which were directly behind him. He was sent careening down to the protective mat that 27 other superstars had fallen upon. With his elimination, came a huge, glass shattering pop from the crowd.

From the outside, Jericho had risen to his feet, screaming and cursing at the stop of his lungs. He had tried to re-enter the ring, but the refs that were surrounding ringside were not going to allow another Shawn-like incident to take place. As Morrison stood by the ring ropes looking down at whom he had just eliminated, The Miz slowly started to position himself behind him. He had risen up rather quickly, not wanting to miss an open chance at winning the rumble. Morrison stood there; his body still. His mouth curled up into a pleasant smile. He had just eliminated one of the biggest stars that the WWE had to offer, much to the desire of the WWE universe. And as he stood there, he felt the one of the Miz's hands grab him by the tights, and the other grab him by the head. He quickly closed his opened hands around the ring ropes, for he knew what was coming next. Michael, using all that he had, pushed Morrison over the top rope, and quickly turned around after doing so, completely unaware on if John had reached the floor or not. He was already celebrating, screaming, and yelling out how he was the best and how he had just got the job done. But, what he didn't realize was how loud the fans were cheering. NOTHING the Miz would have done could have made them cheer so loud. They were cheering at the fact that the match was going to continue. They were up on their feet, screaming at the top of their lungs, because John had held on to the ring ropes.

He was there, dangling. Stuck in-between losing the match, and continuing. Jericho, whom was barely by the ring ramp, tried his very best to maneuver around the Referee's whom were escorting him backstage, so that he could grab John by his legs, and yank him off on to the ground. But, the men in stripes allowed him to do no such thing. John, from his hanging position, proceeded to lift his legs over his head and rotated his body back toward the ring, going over the top rope back into the squared circle, taking a page out of Shawn's book. The Miz, whom was completely unaware of the incident kept on with how awesome and great he was. But, seconds later it hit him. His music wasn't playing, nor had anyone bothered to announce him as the winner. That's when the voice in the back of his head told him to turn around. And like a good child, he obeyed, only to be met by the fist of his tag team partner. The shot jacked his jaw, and caused him to stumble back a few feet. John, whom couldn't believe he was actually doing this, kept on with the offense by throwing another hard right toward The Miz's face. The second shot had just grazed Michaels face, due to him taking a foot back. The grand Mizard, in a rage, retaliated with a fist of his own, which connected square in Morrison's face as soon as the Shaman took a small step in advancement. The hard shot temporarily stunned the A-lister, and The Miz decided to take full advantage of it. He took a hold of Morrison's left arm with his right, spun, and threw Morrison off toward the Ring ropes. He was hoping to get a rebound attack off, and was even bent over, but noticed a few seconds later that his partner had yet to come in his direction. He rose to full height and, without thinking, took a foot forward. As soon as he did, his eyes fell upon his partner whom was in the process of spring boarding off of the second rope.

The Miz froze at the very sight, for he knew what was coming. Morrison, upon bouncing off of the second rope, turned his body in the air and swung his right foot toward the Miz's face, hoping to take him down using the gained momentum of the ring ropes. The flying chuck kick indeed connected, lighting the arena up with a loud clap. Morrison's body hit the mat as soon as Michael's did, but unlike his partner, John rolled across the mat, riding the sheer impulse of the move he had hit. Now, he figured that the match was all his. All he had to do was pick the Miz up, and throw him over the ropes. He knew that the flying roundhouse had done enough damage to keep Michael out long enough for him to do just that. John had struggled up to his feet, and had looked down upon the man whom was still out cold. He slowly walked over to him, knelt down to grab a hold of his head, and as soon as he began to pull him up, felt an incredible pain. John's eyes had lit up, and his legs had caved in on him. He lost his breath, and had fallen down to his knees.

While he struggled to regain his lost air, John realized that he had been hit under the belt. A low blow, courtesy of the Miz. Both men were on their knees, But the Miz had used John's own body to rise completely to his feet. From there, he took a hold of John's long hair, and used it to pull him toward the nearest set of ring ropes.

"I told you once John…And I'll tell you again. You'll never be a top dog. Not while I'm still calling the shots in the pound," The Miz said as he attempted to bring Morrison to his feet by his own hair. Those very words echoed throughout the Guru's ears.

With John now up to a vertical base, the Miz had the opportunity to eliminate him. But, not before adding insult to what was sure to be a stinging injury.

"I'm better than you, John. Always have been…always will be" The Miz uttered as he tightened his grip around Morrison's roots.

John, upon hearing this, rose his fist and brought it along the side of Michael's face, crashing it against the taller man's temple. This loosened the grip around Morrison's hair, giving John a chance to free himself. After landing yet another shot in the same exact spot, Johnny found himself free from his partners grasp. The Californian stepped back, and decided to take advantage of a stunned Mizard. With Michael right next to the ring ropes, John jumped up and pushed both of his feet out toward his opponent's chest, connecting with the sole of both feet. As Michael went back, Morrison's body turned in the air, so that when he landed, it would be on his side or front. The Miz's body, carried by the impact of the dropkick, went tumbling over the ropes onto the ground below While John landed on his side. With the Miz eliminated, The crowd went wild. At that instant, they had forgotten all about how John had assisted Melina in retaining her title, they had forgotten about how many times he cheated to retain his tag team gold, how many times he bent the rules to pick up a victory. In that instant, he was a new-made star in their eyes.

As his theme blared throughout the PA System, John stayed in the position in which he had landed. He had did the impossible in his mind. He had WON the Royal Rumble. Not only was he heading to Wrestlemania, but he was going to headline it. He had fallen under the list of superstars whom he had considered to be the best. But, most importantly, he had realized his long awaited dream.

As the crowd and the commentators went wild, The Miz began to rise to his feet, shaking off the cobwebs upon rising to the full extent of his height. Now what in the hell had happened? He had the match won. He had his partner just where he had wanted him. But, it all backfired on him. All because of him being unable to keep his mouth closed. If he would have just followed everything up, then he would have been in john's position, instead of the position in which was shared by 28 others.

Michael stood there, head held high. He wasn't embarrassed or anything. Just disappointed that he couldn't get the job done. He had come so close, come so far, only for it all to be ripped out of his grasp. Now he had a choice. He could have went backstage to join all the other losers, or he could joined his partner in a celebration.

"…It's his time...not mine," Michael said to himself as he turned toward the ring ramp. The second he did, he caught glimpse of the Divas champion running toward him. He figured that she was there to console him, to help him deal with the fact that he had lost what was possibly the most important match of his life. But, he was wrong. She rushed right past him, not giving him the slightest look. She had slid into the ring to celebrate with the winner. But he should have seen that coming. There wasn't a single chick in the world that would be caught dead with a loser. And at that moment, that's exactly what he was.

Johnny had finally made it to his feet, and as soon as he did, Melina had lunged at him, taking him right back down to the mat. With a smile on his face, John welcomed the pain that it brought. Melina was overwhelmed with joy and so was he. This had to have been the second best day of his life, his first being the day in which he met the woman whom was screaming and shouting in his face. Though he couldn't exactly make out what she was saying, one statement that she had said in the past came to mind:

"_That's right John, straight to the top."_


	3. Je T'aime

**Je T'aime: **

**What If?**

She knew that he was a liar. Yet; she believed him. She knew that she was just like every other girl he brought in. Yet; she felt special. Through out the years of her young life, she had never been treated as good as she deserved. Each guy promised her the world, which was something she could already afford. The only thing she wanted was to love, and be loved in return. But, whenever she went through the difficult process of opening her battered heart to someone, that very person would turn around and stomp on it. Within this time and age, it seemed as if men only wanted one thing, and once they got it, they could care less about the person whom relinquished it.

She was blessed with the gift of beauty. Yeah, she understood that. She flaunted it, not due to arrogance, but because she was proud. She attracted all types of men, but because of fear, she made sure that she was hard to get. But, no matter how hard she tried, whenever a man managed to bypass her safeguard, she couldn't convince him to stay with her. Once her legs spread, it was over. The love and passion only lasted for a night, and on some occasions, a few minutes. Then, it vanished. Never to be seen again, unless it was within a new relationship. Men had come and gone, all promising the same thing, and all leaving without falling through. She hated the way she let everyone of them in, knowing fully well what would happen. But, she felt as if she needed them. Needed them to feel good about her self. Needed them to feel complete. And here she stood, once again, in the same predicament. But this time, she felt different. She wasn't necessarily with this man. But, they did everything a couple would do. And unfortunately for her, she was actually falling in to deep.

She was afraid of that, seeing that doing so always left her in the wrong spot. But, this man was different. He had done everything to get her, and even though he was turned down countless amounts of times, he kept at it. That, in her mind, spoke volumes. When she was with him, she felt safe. She could _feel_ what she _pretended_ to be his love whenever they embraced and whenever their lips met. But the only problem was that she was not the only one. This man was always out with other women, and had even gone as far as to kiss them while in arm's length of her. She knew for a fact that he did not love her…but the sad thing was that she was beginning to_ love him_. Telling him would make no difference, for she knew that he was not going to be tied down. Especially to someone like her. That didn't bother her at all, for the only thing that mattered to her was that she was his favorite. That's what he had told her, and that's what she believed. She had fabricated a self-believed fact within her self; one that assured her that she was the only one receiving the "Special treatment." But, that one question always lingered in her head. The one asking "What if I'm wrong?"

Was she? And if so, when would it all fall apart? After all, she was basically acquainted with bitter endings. She questioned it every day, yet she never wanted it to come to an end. This man is what fueled her. He gave her many-a-reason to believe in love and had provided her slow-beating heart with life support, enough to have it re-blossom, better than it ever was. Despite it's thriving condition, she knew for a fact that if it received one more blow, it would be fatal. So, for her own sake, she hoped that this man would prove to be worthy of her trust. She prayed that this so called "Chick Magnet" would keep _her_ heart closest to his, as opposed to anyone else's.

The most recent reason she believed that she was special occurred on a very important night. It was the night of the Royal Rumble, a night in which EVERY superstar competing in it, should have been completely fixated on how he was going to win it. She wasn't scheduled to compete, and was generally given the night off. The board of directors had rather use her for the following night. But, instead of staying in at a hotel like she had originally planned, an unexpected phone call willed her into the arena. When it rang, and she saw whom was calling, her heart fluttered. Their conversation was brief, but what was said meant more to her than anyone could ever fathom. "They might not need you tonight, but _I_ do."

He told her that if she wasn't there, then he had no hope of winning the mainevent. She couldn't help physically, yes, but mentally, she could assist in more ways than one could imagine. With the right mindset, he could go in and pull off what was promised to be one of the most important wins of his career.

Like a child in sheer ecstasy, she bolted toward her destination. Sure, she wasn't going to be doing much. But just one minute alone with him would make her night. And that's all she wanted.

As she pulled into the arena, she could see him in the open; waiting for her. As her vehicle was parked, she could feel her heart rate quicken. As she approached him, it was basically kicking at her chest. She was welcomed with his smile, the very one that never failed to melt her heart. He wasn't dressed for competition. Oh, he was far from it. He was actually dressed in a suit. Was he trying to be classy for what could have been a minute meeting? He went on to properly greet her; pressing his lips against hers which sent a precipitous pulse of bliss throughout her petite form. He had that effect on her. She was sure that he had that effect on _every_ woman.

"Glad that you could make it," he said softly as his eyes fell into hers.

"I told you. I…would be here for you," she said in reply, making sure to take careful pauses within her sentences. After all, she was no where near the mastery level of the English language. And the LAST thing she wanted to do was mess up in front of him.

"That you did. That you did. Hey, do you think we could finish this in your locker room," he questioned as he rose an eyebrow.

Her very own, the left to be precise, rose in confusion. She really didn't expect to actually head into the building. She envisioned a small meeting in the parking lot, and that was it. But, whatever the case may have been, she happily welcomed it.

"Sure," she replied before walking past him toward the entrance of the building. With a smile tattered across his face, he eagerly followed.

She was one of the few divas whom actually had a locker room all to her self. Most superstars, usually those without a title, had to share locker rooms. She lacked the title, yet did not lack the privilege. The only reason she had one all to herself, was because she failed to get along with the other female competitors. Most, if not all, complaints were about how she handled herself. So, for the sake of their own sanity the board assigned her, her very own room. It was quite fancy. Nothing too special, though. It would fail in comparison if held up to the current divas champions'.

Once in, a few words were exchanged. He laid down a few choice statements, some that just tugged at her heart strings. He had a way with words, or so he did in her opinion. He always knew just what to say and when to say it. Soon, without their notice, time passed. A few times, within that span, his phone went off. Instead of attending to it, he just blew it off, not wanting to take his attention off of her for one solitary second. Those actions alone were enough to place a small blush on her face. At that moment she began to feel that sense of being special. For in that amount of time, she was the only one he paid attention to. No matter how many times his phone went off, _she_ remained constant in his focus. And that's when her weaknesses began to open up. He eventually went in for a kiss, which landed ever so tenderly upon her lips. That drove her off the wall. When she began to kiss back, everything that followed seemed to have gone by in a blur. Lost in the intense passion that she was feeling, she ultimately allowed herself to be disrobed. The next thing she knew, they were rolling across the floor, letting all of the pint up emotion unfurl. She screamed obscenities in French and literally begged for the loving to continue on forever. The time just seemed to pour away as a mixture of passion and lust stained the once clean air of her locker room. At the climax, the love, like always, went up in smoke. Laying on the floor, drenched in sweat and covered by the man of her dreams, she realized that she was wrong. He risked one of the biggest opportunities to ever step onto his door step, to make love to _her_. She was unsure on if he had enough time to rush out there, for she was unaware of the number that he had drew. But, she knew one thing for certain and that was the fact that the Royal Rumble was already taking place. She was in fear of turning on the TV, for it presented a huge possibility that he would rush out depending on what was displayed on the screen. She knew, though, that it was something that had to be done. Maybe after getting laid, he'd have a better chance of securing a victory. But, before she did anything, she had to try something out. With a heart full of hope, she whispered:

"Je t'aime."

The man, whom was positioned atop of her, looked down upon her. Her face was enlightened with a fiery blush. Her delivery was solid, but voiced completely wrong. She meant for it all to come out in English, but for the oddest reason it slipped out in her native tongue. She knew that he wasn't fluent in her language and more than likely didn't know what she said. Maybe it was all for the better. After all, who's to say that she would have gotten that fairytale-like response?

With a smile, he got up from the ground. The TV was soon turned on, and that's when it happened. He started to rampage around the room, looking for his proper equipment. She, from her grounded position, turned her focus over to the television to see what had gotten him so excited. Heading down to the ring was the 25th entrant. But, what really got her attention was the two men whom were fighting it out in the middle of all the turmoil. Her love's partner, John Morrison, and the legendary heart break kid: Shawn Michaels. She rolled onto her side to get a better look of the action, but as soon as she did she heard the unpleasant noise of her room door being unlocked, opened, then slammed, all in one swift second. She didn't even bother to turn to it, for the she did not want to face the fact that he had left. Him leaving would have been okay with her, so long as he said "Goodbye." But maybe it was bigger than that. Deep down inside, she had hoped that he understood what she said…and was mentally praying that she would get a reply. But, it never came. Now, all she had left to remember of what _could have been _an amazing night…was the smell of sweat and a pile of clothing spread about. Clothing that _she_ would have to put away.

The only thing that could have made any of it better, was not a victory in the rumble by the Miz, But a reply. Something, anything, that gestured toward the words:

"I love you too…"

* * *

**AN: **So, I finally know where I want to go with this.

I apologize for the late update.

Please, read and REVIEW.

Your feedback really matters to me and I'm positive that it'll inspire me to come up with new chapters.


End file.
